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Adriaan van Rijs
: The grumpiest grump that ever grumped...but he can draw very well. the first part The last of his kind... In the ages of long ago, before the deep seas caused the regions and lands of northern Europe to part into what we recognize as the United Kingdom, Iceland, Norway, Sweden, Finland and even The Netherlands and the rest of continental Europe, faeries were numerous. They were thought of as gods in some places, devils in others but everywhere they were seen as beings of power to either help or hinder those who lived amongst them. The Örl were one of the, if not helpful, at least not harmful races of fae. They made relatively little mischief for humans and generally were not involved in destruction of things man-made. They drew their strength, their very life force, from being useful and productive. Servitude and strong work ethic, pride in their varying crafts are what drove these tall, slender (and sometimes surly) Otherfolk. Sometimes mistaken for elves in legends (often in lore regarding cobblers and shoes, even if their height tended to be misrepresented), the Örl have managed to escape being captured in tomes and volumes of tales written by men. The Brothers Grimm never wrote of their deeds and Hans Christian Anderson didn’t think to pen stories of their efforts. They lived mostly in secret, amongst the people of the world, content with man and not overly enchanted with the politics of keeping with the faery courts. Seldom would they travel back to the realms of twilight and eternal youth. As time passed, the Örl discovered their magic changing in subtle ways. Their language was less the melodious words of their fellow fae and more the guttural tongue of the Germanic Low Lands and thus they lost most of the art in spell casting, the ‘new’ language lacked the powers of the old. Instead, they relied on their keen senses and superior strength, magic of a different sort—the inherently biological. Eventually, that too, began to change. Their distaste for returning to the place between worlds, to the realm of their origin, had a curious effect on the Örl’s ever-youthful appearance. They began to age when idle. Their cultural pride and joy in serving others became an instinctive necessity as the centuries wore on, be useful or be nothing at all. They tried their best to integrate into the growing societies around them while still keeping to their own. Örl did not interbreed and certainly never intermarried. That was another form protecting themselves and thwarting the changes affecting their people: purity of the bloodline meant they could hold onto what was left of their fae magic. Completely Other and determined to be of use in the human world, the Örl managed to exist for many more years in relative contentment. They maintained canals, built ships, milled grains, paved streets with cobblestones, drove pylons deep into the muck so that port cities could have warehouses along the waters. Others were seamstresses, farm hands, doers of menial tasks—anything to make life run more smoothly and efficient. It was to the benefit of all involved. And then the changes came too fast for most Örl to keep up and adapt. The Industrial Revolution and technology that began growing by leaps and bounds. Little by little and then faster and faster, they found that there was little need for their services by these humans they had lived amongst and helped for so long. Some gave up in despair, simply letting themselves grow still and age then fade away. Others searched their memories and tried to find their way back into the twilight world, but the door eluded them. They too, soon disappeared. All but one very stubborn Örl named Adriaan van Rijs. He was young for one of his kind and determined to remain relevant and useful. the second part The history of THIS particular Örl, as told by random blurbs. *Four hundred and thirty-four years old; didn't look a day over twenty-five when things were going well. *There was a time, centuries ago, when men knew what he was and accepted him; these days, if they believed him, men would want to kill him instead. *He has worked as many things: farmer, miller, field hand, ditch digger, carpenter, architect--always using his hands. *Was once married to another of his kind, his Griet. Now, her ashes are in a jar along with those of the rest of his family. *Lives in Manhattan, works as an urban architect, member of the AIA *Has acquired a pet squirrel. the third part : The way he treats people: He's fae and very aware that he is not quite like the humans around him. He also never deigns to tell any of them this. He will acknowledge fellow fae, though he tends to hold himself apart from them. After all he is the only Örl that exists. He's touchy about the matter. Arie is a surly crankmeister who hates fun. Sarcastic and sometimes very, very standoffish. He's also deeply lonely. so he knows you Damita Monaghan | Meisje, as he prefers to call the young woman (Pudding, when he's being amusing) | Damita is a wonder in and of herself. Arie actually likes her. If there's more to it than that (there is) he's not likely to admit it any time soon. He keeps her around for the squirrel's sake, that's all. She's moderately less annoying than most humans, is another good excuse. That he likes the way she looks in his dress shirts--never you mind, you don't need to know why he has ever had the occasion to loan her a shirt. so he owns you * Schatje | The name means 'little shit' in Dutch, it fits | Schatje is the squirrel residing with Arie in his Manhattan apartment. It's unclear at times as to who is whom's pet. He rescued her when she was tiny and young an fallen from her mother's nest lodged in a tree. Proving that the Faery has a soft heart at time, he brought the rodent home and raised her by hand. She's very spoiled, quite rotten and often causes Adriaan headaches-sometimes several at once. the fourth part * Örl Quotage here. the fifth part Soundtracking The Tragedy Parading As A Jerk SONG '''» '''SINGER » lyrics the sixth part The disclaimery goodness be here: Adriaan is an original character. The Örl and their/his mythology is all mine. Ben Barnes belongs to himself. History that is toyed with is done with artistic license and inaccuracies are for the purpose of storytelling, not from lack of research or familiarity with the subject. Schatje is likewise also mine. DO you really want to tell people you RP a squirrel? Come on. Category:Living